


World Spins Madly On

by CrashHale



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Cheating, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Gay Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Old Friends, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-08-17 17:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16520480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrashHale/pseuds/CrashHale
Summary: Jughead returns to Riverdale after a ten year absence, hoping to reconnect to his oldest and best friend Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea isn't so receptive. Emotions run high, and Jughead is determined to figure out why Sweet Pea never bothered to return any of his calls, texts, or emails.





	1. Stepping Back in Time

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the tags for **warnings** \- this is a M/M fic so obviously there'll be M/M sex. As always feel free to reach out with any questions. It is kind of dark, hence the angst tag. Hope you like it!

Pushing open the front door to The Whyte Wyrm was like stepping back in time.

 

Jughead hadn’t visited home since he left almost ten years ago. He’d gotten out of this hellhole, and didn’t think he’d ever come back.

 

And yet, here he was, feeling happier than he thought he would – more secure in this life. He was in a better place now, and he actually wanted to see everyone – everything.

 

He used to work right here in this very bar, busting tables and helping with deliveries because he was too young to be behind the bar, and Tall Boy was nothing if not a law abiding citizen. It made him smile whenever he thought of him. Tall Boy was a good man.

 

Despite all the bad shit, he also had a lot of good times in his younger years. He’d been remembering that more and more recently. He’d even been _missing_ those good times.

 

It would be good to see everyone. Maybe even Sweet Pea. Jughead wondered about him – his best friend. Even though they hadn’t seen or spoken to each other since he left, Jughead still considered SP his closest friend.

 

It wasn’t his choice to fall out of touch. When he left SP refused to stay in touch – he didn’t return a call, text, email, or even the stupid letter Jughead had sent as a last ditch effort. SP probably didn’t even open the damn thing.

 

It was like he was drawn to him. Before Jughead saw or heard anyone else, there was SP, over by the pool tables, his laugh loud as he played with some random guys Jughead had never seen before. The sound made Jughead’s chest swell with memories.

 

Jughead smiled at the knowledge that he’d been right. SP was still here; unlike Jughead, he had always loved this town. He’d never leave.

 

“Jughead Jones!” someone said, clapping him on the back and pulling him out of his own head.

 

Right before Jughead’s eyes pulled away from SP, he saw SP look in his direction, probably hearing Tall Boy’s loud voice when he greeted him.

 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tall Boy asked with a smile, hugging him hello, “Never thought we’d see your face around here again,”

 

Jughead smiled at the warm welcome.  “Just taking a break from work, visiting my old man,”

 

Tall Boy nodded. “Your old man sure is proud of you, talks about you all the time,” he said, leaving the sore subject for the time being, “Come on, drinks are on me,”

 

Jughead took one more glance in SP’s direction, pulled away and towards the bar with Tall Boy’s arm around his shoulders.

 

SP was no longer looking at him, turned back to the pool table and drinking a beer.

 

At the bar, Jughead sat and greeted all the old regulars, getting caught up with everyone. Some were married, some divorced, some with kids, and all happy to see him.

 

But Jughead kept looking over at SP, the one person he’d been closest to his whole life, up until he left when he was 18, acting like the two of them weren’t finally back in the same room again.

 

He looked the same, a bit bigger with muscle, and many more tattoos painting his arms. He looked good, and Jughead hoped he really was good. He deserved to be happy, to have a good life.

 

The time went by quickly, everyone taking turns talking to and catching up with him. He hadn’t noticed SP walking up until he was leaning against the bar next to him, asking Tall Boy for another pitcher.

 

From up close he could see the slight changes that age had brought. He was still young of course, and even more handsome then he had been when they were teenagers, but his face was harder and meaner now, his tattoos making him seem like even more of a tough guy, and his hands proof he worked hard every day.

 

He’d always pictured SP as a manual labor kind of guy; he loved to build and fix, and work with his hands. He wondered what he ended up doing, hoping it was something that made him feel fulfilled.

 

“Aren’t we lucky?” he began, his dark eyes making Jughead’s chest strain with emotion, “To what do we owe the honor of your presence again?” His deep voice was dripping with sarcasm.

 

“Hey, man, I’m happy to see you again, it’s been forever,” he tried. He really did care; SP was the only person worth anything to him in this town. 

 

When SP didn’t speak, instead handing some cash over to Tall Boy, Jughead went on, worried SP would turn around and be gone as soon as he came.

 

“I’m just visiting, seeing my dad… Can we get together while I’m in town?“

 

SP grabbed the pitcher as soon as Tall Boy was done. “I don’t actually give a fuck, Jug,” he stated, walking away and leaving Jughead feeling like a complete piece of shit. The one person he actually wanted to see didn’t want to see him.

 

He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done to make SP want nothing to do with him. Was it that he left? He’d been planning on leaving since he was a kid. SP knew that better than anyone, it was all Jughead could talk about back then. He dreamed of running off to the city, making something more of himself than this town would ever allow anyone to be.

He’d always hoped that he and SP could continue their friendship, but it seemed SP hadn’t felt the same way.


	2. Room of Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bad friend and forgot to thank [theheavycrown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheavycrown/pseuds/theheavycrown) for all her help bouncing ideas around and encouragement. Thank you so much!

Later that night, when Sweet Pea couldn’t stand to be in the same bar as _him_ any longer, he said goodbye to the guys and made his way outside. The cool night air was a nice contrast to the stickiness of the bar.

 

His head was a blur. One minute everything was fine. He’d been shooting pool with the guys, relaxing after a long day, and the next his past was slapping him across the face.

 

He couldn’t just go home now; he was too riled up. So he pulled out his phone and texted Veronica. Hopefully her husband wasn’t home, he usually worked nights, which was extremely helpful, allowing them to sneak around and fuck whenever either of them wanted.

 

He smiled when she texted back in the next second, ‘ _come over, baby_ ,’ happy he wouldn’t have to be alone, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

 

“Pea!” he heard Jughead calling from behind him.

 

He turned; he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to see him. He’d done a great fucking job getting Jughead out of his head, now he was back and it was the last thing he needed.

 

“Hey, man,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He couldn’t help but notice how good Jughead looked, better even than when they were kids. He had on a dark pair of jeans and a loose fitting t-shirt, his hair screaming sex and making SP want to pull on it.

 

SP took a deep breath to keep calm, his jaw tensing. No, he was over him. _This_ was over. _This_ had never even been anything.

 

Before Jughead could speak, SP mounted his bike, Jughead’s face dropping in what seemed like disappointment.

 

“Come on, why won’t you talk to me?”

 

“I have nothing to say to you,”

 

Before SP could pull away, Jughead added, “Well, I’m at the Hamilton right off 18 if you decide you do want to talk. Room 220.”

 

Feeling like he was shaking with rage, he finally drove off, the air biting his bare skin, but it was a nice distraction nonetheless.

 

He parked down the street like he always did and walked the rest of the way up to the large home. Veronica opened the front door, probably having heard his heavy footsteps on the front porch as he climbed the stairs two at a time.

 

Fuck, she looked good; nothing but a short silk nightgown covering her incredible body.

 

He didn’t even give her a second to speak or kiss him, grabbing her arm and pushing her into the dining room. He had her turned and bent over the table within seconds, her already short nightgown shoved up over her bare ass.

 

He got himself out of his jeans, fucking into her hard and fast, her screams filling the dark and still house, and most importantly, his foggy mind – if only for now.

 

“Oh, fuck!” she yelled, reaching back and holding onto the edge of the table, his thrusts probably bruising her hips into the wood.

 

He usually wasn’t a selfish lover. He took pride in making her come, sometimes for hours on end, but tonight it wasn’t about her. He came hard and with full force, earning a throaty groan from her as he grabbed her hair and forced her head back.

 

When the come down set in, he gently removed his grip from her hair and shoulder, feeling ashamed for thinking of Jughead in that moment instead of her.

 

He pulled her up gently, slipping out of her and making them both groan.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized, running a hand back through his hair as he stepped away.

 

She straightened her nightgown and cupped his cheek, pressing up to kiss his other one. “It’s okay, I’ll get you a coffee,” she breathed, walking away, leaving him alone again with his unstable emotions.

 

Veronica was sweet, in her own way, unhappy in her marriage. Neither of them fooled themselves into thinking this was anything but what it was. She was unhappy and unsatisfied with her husband, and SP made her feel desired, fucked her in a way her husband couldn’t. And she was a sexy, beautiful woman he could get off with without needing to be in a committed relationship. He could sleep with other people and she didn’t care.

 

Inside the kitchen he sat down at the counter top, watching her as she moved around and made the coffee, like she had so many other nights after he drank too much.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, handing the coffee over to him across the counter.

 

There was something about her – about the two of them – that was no bullshit. Aside from the amazing sex, they also talked and were friendly. She told him all the things that pissed her off about Archie and how he treated her like shit. And sometimes he’d confide in her also – on the off chance he felt like talking.

 

And so he found himself telling her _everything_ , his hands shaking by the time he was done, the cup of coffee now empty.

 

She placed her hand gently over his.  “You’re still in love with him,”

 

SP frowned at her. “I never said I was,”

 

Where the fuck had she gotten that from? He’d told her how the two had been best friends since they were six, growing up together. He told her how they spent most of their time together, how they used to fuck in SP’s double bed, and sometimes Jughead’s trailer, before Jughead went through with it – before he left, like he always wanted to.

 

She smiled kindly.  “It’s obvious, and I’m always right about these things,”

 

He sighed, he hated when she was right. He was in love with him, he had been since before they even kissed, if he was being honest, and now, after all these years, Jughead was back.

 

SP thought he was okay, he hadn’t realized he was holding so much pain back. But ever since his grandfather had died a few years back it had become harder and harder to stop thinking, to stop hurting and feeling alone. Now he really was alone.

 

As a kid and teen, he had his grandpa and Jughead, then there was just his grandpa, and now there was no one.

 

* * *

 

A little while later, after the coffee had sobered him up and he’d apologized to Veronica again, he was back in his own home, standing at the entryway and looking around the darkened space.

 

He dreaded going up to his room. There were so many memories up there.

 

After his grandpa died he could have taken the master bedroom, but it just didn’t feel right, so Sweet Pea was still in his childhood bedroom. Sure it was a little different now, with a bigger bed and the walls cleaned of band and movie posters, but it was still the same room.

 

It was the room him and Jughead used to spend hours in watching movies and playing video games. Jughead would sleep over most nights, on the mattress that had a permanent place for him on the floor besides SP’s bed.

 

More and more that mattress became unused, or rather, used for activities that weren’t of the sleeping or resting kind.

 

Some nights SP would get out of his bed and join Jughead on the mattress, heated kissing turning less innocent as they both lost their boxer briefs and inhibitions. Other nights Jughead would crawl into SP’s bed, spooning him from behind and kissing the back of his neck softly.

 

Those sweet moments always escaladed, two teenaged boy hormones in one bed proving too much to resist.

 

With a groan SP fell back onto the sofa, kicking his shoes off and slumping to the side so he could lie down. He was too big for it, but it was better than his bed tonight.

 


	3. A Huge Mistake

The next day, Jughead climbed the three sagging steps up to the trailer door. He used the keys he’d taken from his dad the night before and let himself in. He put the lone paper bag down by the entrance.

 

All was quiet as he walked down the hallway to find his dad exactly where he’d left him – fast asleep, fully clothed sans for the boots Jughead had pulled off after getting him onto the bed.

 

He sighed and walked back into main area, grabbing the bag and taking the groceries out. He put them away, into the fridge that only held beer, and proceeded to wash the dishes that were piling up in the sink.

 

Next he went on to make them breakfast – fresh coffee, bacon, toast, tomatoes, and eggs.

 

His dad was finally out of the bedroom by the time Jughead was transferring the eggs onto the plate from the pan.

 

FP groaned as he sipped the coffee, and Jughead came to take the seat across from him at the small table.

 

“Sleep alright?” Jughead asked.

 

Instead of answering, his dad replied with, “What are you doing here?”

 

“I came to see you. I was here last night, dad,” he reminded, he had just been too fucked up to even know. “Remember?”

 

“Of course I do,” he grumbled.

 

Jughead knew that was a lie. His dad had been an alcoholic since before his mum died. FP was too blacked out to retain anything.

 

Jughead just nodded, deciding to change the subject and asked how he was.

 

“I’m fine,” FP said, scarfing down half his food, “What about you, kid? Got a girl back home?”

 

Jughead smiled at him, “No, not yet,”

 

“Well what are you waiting for, boy? You’re a catch, you must be fighting them off,”

 

Jughead laughed. He hadn’t had any trouble finding partners back in the city, but he hadn’t met anyone he wanted more than one night with.

 

“Ah, I get it, too many to settle for just one… that’s alright, you just enjoy yourself.”

 

He let him ramble, answered his questions about his editors and book signings, and cleaned up the table once they were done. It was like almost nothing had changed in the time he was gone.

 

He got him to get into the shower and sighed as he looked around the old trailer, then continued to do his best cleaning that up too.

 

When FP was finally out he asked, “So you wanna head to the bar, get some drinks and keep this reunion going?”

 

“It’s not even 11 yet, dad,”

 

“So? They’ll be open by the time we get there,”

 

“I didn’t come here to get fucked up with you,” he said, a bit harsher than he intended to. Even though he felt badly for his father, he still resented him for never actually being one.

 

“Then what’d you come here for, huh?”

 

“I told you, I came to see you. It’s been a long time,”

 

Tempters were getting high, like they did all those years ago, and the father son duo were easily back there again.

 

“You didn’t come to see me. You don’t give a damn about me, or this town, you never did,”

 

“Of course I do!” he shot back, his anger rising. That was the fucking problem. He hated this town, but it had raised him, it had given him what he needed to become a successful author, and pushed him to make something of himself.

 

He gave a damn.

 

His dad was the one that didn’t. He knew alcoholism was a disease and his father didn’t mean to make his childhood a miserable one. But whether he meant it or not that’s what it was. No money for food or electricity, no money for clothes as Jughead grew to be over six foot by the time he was sixteen.

 

“You’re here because you haven’t had an idea for your next book yet!” his dad spat.

 

It was true - a truth he hadn’t told himself yet.

 

Maybe he was here for inspiration. Maybe he’d fallen out of touch with the things that made him such a good writer to begin with.

 

“You always thought you were so much better than us… and sure, maybe you are… but you need us. You needed me to be a shit dad, you needed to be larger than _this_ , and I allowed it!”

 

That had him seeping over the edge, stopping himself from punching his dad in the face, or worse, “I needed you to give a shit about me!” he yelled back, “I know you lost mum, and I know you loved her, but you had me to love too, and you didn’t give a shit about me!”

 

The two looked at each other for what felt like hours before Jughead finally stormed out and drove his rental car as long as he could, before needing to get out and light up. His hands didn’t stop shaking until he was on his second cigarette.

 

Maybe this whole thing was a huge mistake.


	4. Unsafe Option

That whole day at work had been hell – Sweet Pea was in a horrible mood, and everyone could tell. One thing after another was going wrong, and he couldn’t get Jughead off his mind.

 

He ended up staying after all his workers went home. Working on cars always helped with his anger, and now that he was alone, no one was getting on his nerves. He had some beers while he worked, from his mini fridge in the office, and kept debating on going to Jughead’s hotel – or the safer option – home.

 

He hated Jughead. He hated him for leaving; he hated him for loving him. He hated that he was here now.

 

As one beer turned into two, and he soon lost count, he was mounting his bike and heading in the opposite direction of his house. The unsafe option had won.

 

He didn’t even need to go into the hotel to find Jughead. He was outside in the dark parking lot smoking alone.

 

Jughead noticed him before he even got close, his loud bike probably the calyptrate.

 

As he approached Jughead, and wanted nothing more than to squeeze both hands around his neck, Jughead put the cigarette out and took a few steps forward to meet him.

 

“Glad you came,” he spoke gently, and SP could tell he had a bad day too. Maybe he’d need this as well.

 

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Jughead told him to follow. He watched Jughead’s tall, lean figure as he did just that, the two silent while in the elevator and entering his room.

 

He’d had enough of holding back, grabbing Jughead’s shirt and shoving him against the wall.

 

From the outside looking in, this might have looked like a fight, and for SP it kind of was.

 

There was a second of looking into those dark blue eyes that used to bring such comfort, before his lips were hard on his, and SP’s body pressed him into the wall.

 

Jughead was fisting the back of his dirty shirt, grease still all over him but he didn’t care. He doubted Jughead cared either. Jughead’s hand moved onto the back of SP’s neck, tongues and teeth unforgiving as they attacked each other.

 

SP groaned into his mouth, wanting so badly to do what he came here for, and shoving Jughead’s jacket off quickly.

 

Jughead moaned, reaching around to cup his face, “You’re drunk,” he breath.

 

“And you taste like a fucking ashtray,” he shot back. He wasn’t complaining, kissing him like this was familiar, Jughead had been smoking for awhile now, “We all have our vises… Don’t pretend like you’re perfect,” with his harsh words he pushed Jughead further into the room.

 

It was dim, and the room felt like it was on fire, both men quickly removing their shirts and coming together again in an aggressive kiss – skin on skin.

 

Sweet Pea wasn’t fooling himself. This wasn’t like before, nothing ever would be again. This was anger, his foggy mind doing nothing to stop it.

 

With his hands moving up around Jughead’s neck, and Jughead holding onto his wrists so he wouldn’t take things further, they continued the war between their mouths.

 

He hadn’t realized how hard he was squeezing until Jughead tightened his hold on his wrists and whispered, “Pea…”

 

That brought him to reality enough to shove him onto the bed, watching Jughead crawl back on it. SP began to undo his pants and smiled darkly at the way Jughead watched him.

 

“Take your fucking pants off,” he instructed, stepping out of his boots and jeans as Jughead took heed of his instruction.

 

Fuck, he looked so good – lean muscles, stunning body, and the most gorgeous face in the world – the face that haunted his every dream and nightmare.

 

In the next second, when Jughead stood, SP placed a hand on his shoulder and the other into his own briefs. Looking into his eyes, Jughead leaned forward, a softer kiss than SP wanted to allow, and took the hint to get onto his knees.

 

He watched as Jughead kissed his lower stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband and pulling the fabric down his thighs. He stroked himself, hard as a rock and wanting nothing more than to fuck his mouth until he was choking around him.

 

When Jughead took over, wrapping his hand around SP’s cock, SP moved his hands into Jughead’s hair, feeling the smoothness of it and gripping when he’d had enough teasing.

 

He was in Jughead’s mouth the next second; his head dropping back a moment at the feel. To this day he hadn’t found anyone that sucked dick as well as him, his mouth so warm and wet, and knowing just the right ways to suck and pull and lick - it drove him fucking crazy.

 

Jughead’s hands were grabbing onto his ass for support, and he smirked when he looked down in the same second that he forced Jughead down further. He’d forgotten how good he actually looked, opening his throat up and not resisting at all as SP set a faster pace.

 

He was determined to make him crack, and there was no way he was going to give in to the pulsing until he had tears running down Jughead’s face.

 

He fucking hated him, he hated that he wanted this so much – that he’d made what used to be so fun into a weapon to hurt each other.

 

He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the alcohol in his system to do its job and just let him enjoy this for what it was – a fuck that would hopefully give him some kind of closure.

 

He couldn’t hold it anymore, the pleasure too much and his inhibitions too far gone, forcing Jughead down harder. He finally heard and felt the cough, coming hard down his throat, making sure Jughead didn’t pull away until he was done.

 

Jughead seemed to fight through it, closing his eyes and pushing back against SP’s hold as he sucked him off through his orgasm, swallowing every last drop and not stopping until SP used his hair to pull him completely off, now finally able to breathe and taking deep inhales.

 

SP watched him, completely used, hair a mess and saliva and tears covering his face. He had dropped back against the edge of the bed and was looking up at SP with question.

 

Giving in, SP dropped down to his knees too, and leaned in for a kiss.

 

_What the fuck was he doing?_


	5. A Nostalgic Memory

Jughead wasn’t sure what had changed Sweet Pea’s mind – what made him come here tonight – but he wasn’t complaining.

 

With SP’s lips locked with his, Jughead got his second wind, pressing up onto his knees again and off the edge of the bed. He deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around SP’s broad shoulders and deepening the kiss.

 

Sucking him off had been like some kind of revenge plan, but now that their kiss was sweet, and SP was wiping the spit off his chin, he smiled and looked into his dark eyes, “I’m so happy you’re here,” he told him.

 

But somehow that seemed to be the wrong thing to say, because he pulled Jughead’s arms from around him and told him to, “turn around, stay on your knees,”

 

Jughead frowned but did what he was told. He had SP, here with him now, and he didn’t want him to leave or get more upset.

 

He sighed when he felt SP’s body up against him from behind, his now semi hard cock pressing into his ass. He lulled his head back when he felt SP’s lips on his neck, his hands coming around dangerously close to where he wanted him, grabbing the fabric and forcing it down in a way that had his dick springing up for attention. He was so turned on, he couldn’t remember ever needing someone this much.

 

It was strange though, it wasn’t happy, it was something new – something mean and spiteful about it. He just had no idea what he’d done wrong, and all he wanted was to make it better; to take this pain away that SP was so obviously carrying.

 

When Jughead went to reach for the back of SP’s head, so the kisses on his neck would continue, SP growled and bit down, grabbing both Jughead’s hands and forcing them forward on the bed, both men leaning towards it a little.

 

“Pea,” he said lustfully. He needed him so badly, but he knew since he’d just come down his throat that it would be at least a little while until things went further.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” SP told him, breath hot against his neck as he took him into his hand and began stroking.

 

Jughead took deep breaths, biting the inside of his cheek as SP was rough about it, but fuck did it feel so good.

 

SP stopped only long enough to spit into his hand, the lubrication allowing him to stroke faster and longer. Jughead felt like he was being lead to his death, gripping the covers on the bed before him and pressing back against SP’s hard chest.

 

There was nowhere to go, not that he wanted to. He’d let SP torture him forever like this if he wanted, “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down at the action below him.

 

SP’s free hand came back up around his neck, forcing his head back again and this time taking his ear into his mouth, biting and licking the sensitive skin and making Jughead’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he hissed.

 

“Gonna come?” he asked lowly and darkly.

 

“Oh, fuck, yes,” he breathed, the pressure building and SP’s grip tightening.

 

Just as he felt it coming, SP’s words stung him like a scorpion, “Well, come on, boy,”

 

“Shit,” Jughead cursed through gritted teeth, spilling hard over SP’s hand and the bed covers in front of them, his bruising grip quickly becoming painful.

 

“SP,” he warned, using his elbow to push him back.

 

SP stopped, although Jughead’s strength was nothing compared to his and he hadn’t pushed him off at all.

 

“You’re a fucking dick,” he sighed, taking a second to come to from his high.

 

They both knew Jughead had daddy issues, and calling him _boy_ (like his father so often did) during mid orgasm was a mind fuck. It was obvious SP was close to drunk, the beer evident on his breath and tongue, but Jughead wasn’t about to turn him away.

 

“I’ll show you what a fucking dick I am,” he warned, “Get up on the bed,”

 

It was like he was destined to be around alcoholics all his life. SP had picked up the habit during high school, and it seemed it had stuck around. Jughead wondered whether, if he had stuck around, he would have been able to help SP control it better.

 

With slight fatigue he climbed up on the bed, pressing his chest against it and bending over the edge.

 

The whole thing was fucked up. But he couldn’t hold it against him, as SP said - they both had their vises.

 

He frowned and took a deep breath when SP opened him up, looking back in time to see him spit into his hand again and spread it over him. He hadn’t had sex with a guy in a long time, and the last time he had he was the one doing all the work.

 

He knew it would hurt, the way it did the first time SP had done it, but he’d do anything to let SP get this aggression out. He wasn’t sure what he’d done, but he wanted to take whatever punishment SP wanted to give him. Maybe then he’d be more open to talking and telling him what was wrong.

 

SP seemed at least nice enough to ease in, teasing him until he relaxed enough to take it all. It fucking burned. SP was big, bigger than him (and he knew he himself was well off), so it took a few thrusts to even be able to see straight again.

 

“Holy fuck,” he groaned into the bed under him, cursing again when SP grabbed his hair and pulled him back.

 

“You’re so fucking tight,” he heard him groan, the next thrust deeper and harder – each one growing in speed.

 

It felt good though, being with him like this again, sharing what they had as teens, opening up to each other in a way they hadn’t for others. There was a quick jealous streak that ran through him, wondering if SP fucked other men like he was fucking him right now.

 

“Fuck me,” he breathed, wanting it all, “Oh, shit…”

 

Jughead knew SP had been a ladies man back in their last few years in high school, getting drunk and fucking a different one ever other week, but that had never bothered him. Jughead slept with girls too. What the two of them shared back then was different to fucking their female classmates.

 

He moaned in pleasure when it began to feel good, his dick growing hard again against his lower stomach and the bed beneath him, SP’s determined thrusts making him feel taken over.

 

He sounded so good too, groans and grunts of ecstasy he felt proud to be giving SP. He forgot how incredible it was being with him.

 

Yes, back then it was more fun. Sometimes it was loving, and sometimes playful, whispering dirty things into each others ears and exploring each others bodies with lips, tongues and teeth. Even though it wasn’t that now, it was at least nice to have some form of it again – it’s own form of a nostalgic memory.

 

SP drew him off the bed a little with a tug on his shoulder, his strong grip firm there. With his other hand, he grabbed Jughead’s, the two of them jerking him off together and making him see black.

 

The pressure on his prostate and now SP’s hand was too much, crying out as he came spilling over their joined hands, SP still fucking into him from behind.

 

He did his best to stay up, feeling the pulsing of SP’s cock inside him and blinding hotness of his come as he exploded once more. He smiled with content and fell onto the bed again, SP slipping out.

 

He was fucking exhausted, and so satisfied.

 

He’d only closed his eyes for a second before he willed himself to turn around and sit up. He needed a shower, and even though he was definitely not complaining, SP did too. He was filthy from work, grease and sweat clinging to his tanned skin.

 

But SP seemed to have other plans, picking up his clothing and getting dressed like they hadn’t just done what they did.

 

“What are you doing?” Jughead asked.

 

SP just turned, zipping up his jeans and wiping what was probably still Jughead’s come off his hand.

 

When he realized SP wasn’t listening, he quickly got off the bed, grabbing his arm, “Pea?”

 

SP pulled his arm free and gave him a mean look, “Don’t fucking touch me,” he warned, Jughead stepping back with shock.

 

SP got his shoes on and was slamming the door shut before Jughead could catch up, whispering, “what the fuck just happened,” as he ran both his hand through his messy hair.


	6. We Were Friends

This trip was really turning out to be a bad idea. Jughead had another fight with his dad, and then there was… whatever _that_ was with SP. He decided to spend the day alone, to get his thoughts in order.

 

He stopped off at Pop’s first, to grab some coffee and breakfast, thinking no harm could come from it. But when the door chimed, half way through his breakfast, he looked up and saw SP.

 

SP hadn’t noticed him yet, walking up to the counter and greeting Pop. Jughead smiled at the memory of eating here together, and all those nights they got take out. Of course he’d see him here.

 

He had on a sweatshirt, ‘Riverdale Auto’ written on the back in white fading letters. As Pop handed him a huge bag and four coffees Jughead thought he must be picking up breakfast for his co-workers.

 

“Hey, Pop,” Jughead said, coming out of his booth and walking over to them just as SP looked his way and was taking his wallet out of his back pocket, “I’ll take care of SP’s bill,”

 

SP frowned, “I can pay for my own breakfast, but thanks,” he replied, shoving his card towards Pop before Jughead could do the same.

 

“I feel like I’m back in time,” Pop began, “you two kids here together again,”

 

Jughead gave Pop a kind smile. That was hardly what this was. There was no love or friendship between them anymore. Not that he didn’t want there to be. He knew what SP had come to the hotel for, but he had hoped there’d be more than just sex.

 

“Thanks for the food Pop, I’ll see you again tomorrow,” SP said, turning to exit.

 

“Pea, wait…”

 

He turned long enough to say, “Sorry, running late,” and left the way he came.

 

Jughead watched him exit and went back to his table, watching SP get into the truck with the same name and logo printed on the side that was on his sweatshirt.

 

Maybe he just had to deal with one monster at a time.

 

After breakfast he got a to go order and went back to the trailer. To his surprise his dad was up, out by the old truck with his head under the hood.

 

“What’s going on, dad?” he asked, hoping that like every other time they’d had a fight they could both just let it go. He hated to admit it, but he’d gotten more than just his looks from his dad – he got that horrible temper too.

 

“Damn truck’s acting up again,”

 

Jughead handed him the bag of food and coffee, “Here, have something to eat. I can take the truck into town to get it looked at,” he offered.

 

FP stopped and watched Jughead as he looked under the hood. He was talking, saying what he thought might be the problem, when he noticed his dad hadn’t said anything.

 

When he stood back up and looked at his dad, he gave him a smile.

 

“You’re a good kid,” he said, getting chocked up the way he did when the alcohol was out of his system and he regretted the days before, “I’m sorry I said that stuff, I’m happy you came home to visit, and I’m real proud of you… I brag about you all the time to the guys,”

 

Jughead could cry too. His dad wasn’t perfect, he was far from it, but he was still his dad. He moved in for a hug, holding on and feeling the burn of the tears come, “It’s okay, dad… You were right,” he admitted.

 

He was selfish sometimes, like right now, with this trip, hoping to be inspired. He should have known he’d just spark things up again here for everyone else. He should have thought more about his dad and SP than he did himself.

 

* * *

 

Later on, Jughead took the truck to shop in town that SP obviously worked at. He had dealt with his dad, now it was time to talk to SP. He may not want to, but Jughead did.

 

Jughead was greeted by some other guy, Travis, asking what the problem was. He seemed to recognize the truck as FP’s.

 

Shortly after SP came up from somewhere in the back of the shop, wiping his hands on a rag, “What’s going on?” he asked.

 

“FP’s truck’s acting up again – this is his son Jughead,” Travis introduced, “I told him we can probably have it fixed up by tomorrow evening,”

 

SP nodded, “I’ll deal with this one Trav, you can head out,”

 

“You guys know each other?” he asked.

 

“We were friends back in school,” SP sighed, “I’ll take a look at the truck.”

 

Travis nodded and shrugged “Thanks, boss”, probably happy to be out early. Jughead was sure SP just wanted him out of their business, because Jughead was here for more than just the car.

 

“Boss?” Jughead asked, as soon as Travis was heading into the back. He had to start somewhere.

 

SP nodded, “Bought it five years back,”

 

“That’s amazing, you were always great with cars,”

 

SP stayed quiet as he checked out the engine. Jughead knew a little, but there was only so much he could do. He stood anxious as he watched SP work, waiting for Travis to get gone so they could get on with it.

 

But as soon as Travis was pulling out of the lot, SP quieted down even more, no chitchat of any sort between the two. Jughead didn’t want to upset him, although he knew they had to talk sooner or later. But for now he was just enjoying this – watching him work in peace.

 

SP sighed after awhile, telling him he needed to keep it until at least tomorrow, “I’ll drive you back to your dad’s or the hotel if you need,”

 

Jughead frowned, “Can we just talk?” he asked, feeling defeated. They couldn’t pretend nothing happened – he couldn’t go back home after this knowing SP was so upset.

 

He felt terrible that he’d probably been like this this whole time.

 

SP seemed to consider it, then told Jughead to give him a minute and went into the office to close up.

 

SP drove them back to his place. Jughead looked around at the familiar home, not needing to ask about the mess because he was sure it was just SP’s aggression continuing last night after he returned from the hotel.

 

“Beer?” he asked, ignoring the mess too and leading him into the kitchen.

 

Jughead shook his head no.

 

“I’ll make some coffee,” SP said instead.

 

This house had been more his home than his own while he was growing up. He missed SP’s grandfather, he had been a great man, and it had really gotten to him when he heard of his passing.

 

He took a seat by the counter while SP made the coffee, handing him the mug when it was done. Jughead felt more at home right now than he had felt in a long time – here with SP where they’d grown up. He missed him, he hadn’t realized how much until just now.

 

He really was selfish. His dad was right.

 

“What was that, Pea?” Jughead asked as gently as he could. SP seemed calm now, so he figured it was a good time to begin the conversation. “Last night I mean,”

 

SP leaned against the counter across from him, “That was hate sex, Jug,” he said bluntly.

 

Jughead was surprised, but appreciated the honest answer, asking, “You hate me?”

 

He laughed bitterly.

 

Jughead knew this had to do with them before. Maybe what they had meant more to SP than he realized.

 

Of course Jughead loved SP, but maybe he didn’t realize that that love was the same. Jughead always thought they were just having fun. SP had fun with a lot of other people – he didn’t think it was more than that.

 

“You left, Jug,” he began, his jaw tensing, “You left without thinking of anyone else. You just left me behind like we hadn’t gone through everything together,”

 

“I thought we were just having fun back then?” Jughead said, not realizing just how much this hurt Sweet Pea. Not realizing that this was why Sweet Pea had done nothing to stay in touch back then, when Jughead emailed him weekly and tried calling. He had to admit he was pleasantly surprised by SP’s willingness to discuss this now. This wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.

 

“Yeah, _fun_ ,”

 

“Weren’t we?”

 

“While you were having fun fooling around with me, almost every goddamn night, I was fucking falling in love with you… and then you just left, like it didn’t mean anything… Like I didn’t mean anything,”

 

Of course Sweet Pea meant something. They’d been friends since forever, best friends. They had once shared all their firsts and been the closest two people could be.

 

“You meant something, Pea… You were the best thing I had back then… but you know I had to get out of here. You know I couldn’t stay.” He said, hoping Sweet Pea would remember all the crap Jughead went through with his dad.

 

“Clearly,”

 

Jughead stood from his seat and came around to be closer to him, “I was in love with you too,” he confessed, “But I didn’t think… I thought it was just sex for you, I’m sorry,” he tried, reaching his hand out to SP’s face, feeling relieved when he let him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he offered again sincerely, truly meaning it.


	7. Promises

This wasn’t him. Sweet Pea wasn’t the pussy who cried about his feelings. When he tried pulling away from Jughead, his hand flew from his face to his shoulder. Yes, SP could always overpower Jughead, but he didn’t have the energy to fight. Saying the little he did say had drained him.

 

“Don’t,” Jughead simply told him, that look of concern etched into his face, “I’m here now…”

 

His eye dropped down to Jughead’s chest. All those times he wished Jughead had been there and he wasn’t, then this morning he just _had_ to be at Pop’s of all placed. SP shouldn’t have been surprised, the boy used to live off Pop’s when they were kids.

 

He didn’t want to deal with last night; he didn’t want to deal with the mess he’d made as soon as he got home. He didn’t want to cry again like he had – bawling like a baby as soon as all his aggression had been taken out on his furniture, and of course on Jughead not even an hour earlier.

 

Then there he was again, in his shop talking with Travis. When Jughead asked to talk, SP considered just telling him no and going to Veronica’s like he’d planned, but instead he told Jughead to give him a minute and went into the office, giving Veronica a quick call to tell her he wouldn’t be over.

 

She had told him to be nice and just hear him out, to stop being such a dick all the time. He liked her for being so clear all the time.

 

Jughead’s lips were on his again, soft and cautious. As the emotions hit, he grabbed the back of Jughead’s neck and deepened the kiss.

 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jughead said again between desperate kisses.

 

SP couldn’t do this, he couldn’t do the tears that were threatening to escape, so of course his signature move was to go to sex, unbuckling Jughead’s jeans even though he protested weakly.

 

“Pea, come on,” Jughead moaned, SP hand grabbing onto his hard-on and rubbing, “we should talk,”

 

SP smirked, knowing he was going back to his old ways and not caring, “you sure you want to talk?” he teased, pulling his jeans down his ass and looking down at the way his dick stood up for attention.

 

“I’m positive,” Jughead said, the words hardly coming out. SP grinned, giving him a deep kiss. They were the same, and he knew it. Even back then, they dealt with their emotions through sex and not words. The one time they had some stupid fight in school, well that had been some insanely good make-up sex.

 

“Or do you want me to suck your cock?” he finished with his second options – the option he’d rather take himself.

 

He saw Jughead swallow at his words, and curse as SP got down on his knees and took him into his mouth hungrily. He looked up at him the whole time, watching the way Jughead feel apart, his one hand on the counter opposite him and the other in SP’s hair.

 

Shoving his hand up Jughead’s shirt he felt his hard muscle, and the dark hair that was his sexy happy trail. When he moaned around him, Jughead cursed again, a telltale sign that he was close.

 

He took that as a challenge, wanting to show him he was still the best he’d ever have. SP had amazing sex with Veronica, and all those other random people, but nothing compared to when they were together.

 

After his climax, and holding himself up against the counter, SP moved around and to Jughead’s back, his arms around him and kissing his sweet neck.

 

“SP…” he sigh, reaching for his jeans before SP stopped him, “Come on, man, what we just did wasn’t talking… not really,” he had always been the voice of reason, turning slightly, enough for SP to grab his chin and turn him more, his mouth on him.

 

“Fuck… Pea… I’m serious,” he said in a strained voice.

 

“Let me fuck you, and I promise we can talk all night,” he replied, not quite sure he meant it right now, but he definitely knew he needed him, his erection painful inside his jeans.

 

“You’re not good at promises,” Jughead replied, but he was reaching back anyway, grabbing for his cock.

 

SP smirked and took over, taking himself out and bending Jughead over quickly. With saliva lubricating them, he was inside him again, both still dressed and fucking harder than he had in awhile.

 

He came across his ass and slapped it for good measure, Jughead slumped over the counter and looking thoroughly used.

 

That high feeling he’d had from the time he began seducing Jughead to the time it was over, quickly washed away, and he desperately wanted a beer, or maybe something stronger.

 

* * *

 

As SP started up the shower and Jughead undressed, he felt that dread seep in again. There was nothing harder than the truth. Jughead had said he loved him too.

 

They showered in silence, stopping only when Jughead pulled him in for a soft kiss and hug. He had to admit it did feel good to let some of that anger go.

 

SP left Jughead in the bathroom to dry off as he wrapped a towel around his waste and headed straight to the fridge for that beer he’d been needing. He couldn’t do this completely sober.

 

Jughead was here, and this time he didn’t have the option of leaving.

 

“Hey,” Jughead said from behind him, startling him, but he didn’t show it.

 

SP looked at him, so damn sexy with his wet hair and perfect body, bare foot in his kitchen.

 

“Can I borrow a pair of your sweats?”

 

SP nodded and took another pull of his beer, the coffee long forgotten.

 

He took time in the kitchen, warming himself to the idea of going up to his room and having that talk he’d promised Jughead. Maybe this was good, a chance for his life to move forward, to release the pain he’d been holding onto.

 

Inside his room, Jughead was laying back on his bed, one knee bent and his hand in his hair, pulling and twirling.

 

He swallowed down the rest of the beer and put it on the dresser, reaching in for a pair of shorts and coming to sit next to Jughead on the bed. The boy looked damn good there, and he couldn’t help but wish he’d stay forever. He knew that couldn’t happen though.

 

Jughead gave him a smile, reaching for him, “This bed’s a lot more spacious than your old one,”

 

He looked him up and down, checking him out, “You look good in it,”

 

Jughead smiled kindly, “I’m not letting you fuck me again until after that talk,”

 

SP raised his eyebrows at the promise of more, and quickly grabbed both of his wrists as he climbed on top and straddled him.

 

“Besides, I’m sore after last night and today,” he said with an adorable smile.

 

“Oh yeah?” he teased, “Been awhile since you had some big dick, huh?”

 

Jughead laughed, the mood around them as relaxed now as when they were teens. So this was how it felt when he let his guard down?

 

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, gripping his wrists a little tighter as he came down for a kiss, “I’ll let you fuck me next… The chick I’m fucking loves pegging, so I’m ready for you,”

 

Jughead laughed again, and SP smiled, this back and forth that used to be so fun, coming back easily.

 

“Come here,” Jughead told him, wrapping his arms under his shoulders as soon as SP let him go. The two kissed long and slow, Jughead whispering, “I missed you so much,” and SP’s heart aching.


	8. The Question

Jughead was so in his zone that he didn’t even noticed Sweet Pea until he was sliding into the booth across from him, “Earth to Jughead Jones,”

 

Jughead smiled, his fingers finally leaving the keys after being glued to them for over an hour. He hadn’t felt this inspired since… forever. After spending the night with SP he felt so free and happy.

 

“Hey, sorry, I’m kind of zoned in here,”

 

SP raised his eyebrows, a lovely bright smile in place, “Feeling inspired?”

 

Jughead’s smile grew, “So inspired,”

 

“Wonder why…” SP replied knowingly, turning back towards the bar.

 

“You just picking up?” he asked, seeing Pop was putting together an order.

 

SP nodded, turning back to him, “I called your name when I walked in, but you’re in another world, man,”

 

“Sorry,” Jughead shrugged, finally taking a sip of coffee that Pop had been keeping warm for him.

 

“Don’t be, I’m glad you’re inspired… I feel good too,” It was really nice seeing SP happy like this again – like his old self.

 

That made his heart full, wanting to reach across the table and hold his hand, “Good,”

 

* * *

 

_They had been lying there looking at each other for a while, Jughead finally speaking, “I sent flowers for the funeral,” he began, knowing SP would know what he meant._

_“I didn’t really care who sent what at the time,”_

_He swallowed, “I should have come, I’m sorry… I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there, we hadn’t talk in years,” It was cowardly of him not to come, but he couldn’t take it back now._

_He looked at him with sad eyes. SP’s grandpa had been such a good man, losing him must have been heartbreaking. Jughead should have been there._

_“I would have acted like I didn’t want you there… but I wanted you there,”_

_“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, “I’m sorry I was always so selfish… I should have realized how leaving would affect you… and my old man,”_

_SP shrugged, “You had to take care of yourself,”_

_He nodded. Yeah, he did, but he should have taken responsibility for his relationships too._

_“I should have told you how I felt, but I thought I’d lose your friendship if I was just like ‘hey, I’m in love with you’,”_

_SP laughed lightly, moving so he was on his back, his hand coming over his chest, “I probably would have called you a fag,”_

_“Well, you wouldn’t have been wrong,” he added, giving him a smile as he placed his own hand atop SP’s._

_When SP turned to face him, he reached his hand up and felt his stubble, “It’s complicated being in love with you best friend, especially when you’re both guys, and you’re both sleeping with girls too.”_

_They were both confused then, it was clear now._

 

_After a moment SP spoke, “I’m still mad at you for leaving me alone here… But I get now that it’s on me too… It wasn’t all your fault. It’s wrong of me to have blamed you this whole time.”_

_His heart ached, “I would have been miserable if I stayed,”_

_“I know,” SP said confidently, a content smile gracing his lips. It was amazing how just talking seemed to make them both so much more free - light hearted even._

 

* * *

 

“So…” Jughead went on, seeing Pop was almost done and SP would be leaving soon, “Can I come over tonight?” he asked.

 

It was amazing seeing those beautiful brown eyes smile at him again, their whole history behind them.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be home by six,”

 

“I’ll bring dinner,”

 

SP winked and headed out, the smile on Jughead’s face stupid.

 

* * *

 

_As SP groaned his name and reached back for him, Jughead smiled and kissed his neck, spooning him and moving in and out of him slowly, deliberately._

_He’d been so proud of SP, keeping his promise to talk. It took awhile to open up, to get to the hard stuff, but they made it. They talked about Jughead’s time in the city and how he’d gotten to where he was. SP admitted that he’d never read any one of his books. He said he’d been too angry, and Jughead understood._

_SP told him about Veronica and how she saw right through him when it came to Jughead. Jughead liked this woman already, she sounded good for SP. It was too bad she was married. Jughead was too thankful that SP had someone like that to be jealous._

_SP told him about his grandfather’s last few years and all about the shop – how it took awhile to get everything in order, but he was doing what he loved. He loved knowing what he was doing every day, loved having a steady income and fixing things._

_It was hours of staring at each other through the dark, in SP’s bed, just talking about everything._

_When it was clear SP had enough, Jughead kissed him softly, SP whispering dirty words against his lips, and Jughead instantly growing hard._

_How did they always end up here? It was a miracle they did anything but fuck during their younger years._

 

* * *

 

After spending the whole morning working on his new novel at Pop’s, Jughead spent the rest of the day with his dad, keeping away from the more explosive topics. Jughead knew his father had to want help before anything could be done. FP was nowhere near wanting to be sober, maybe he never would be.

 

Jughead went to the store before SP got off, picking up steaks, potatoes, and veggies for a salad. He used the grill in the backyard to make them dinner while SP showered and cleaned up after work.

 

When he came and sat down at the table, half naked and with his hair still wet, Jughead knew exactly what he was doing – driving him crazy.

 

He ignored it, ignored the way his Adam’s apple moved as he down a few beers, ignored the way his arm muscles moved as he cut into the steak. Damn it, SP was rubbing off on him – figuratively and well, physically too.

 

They had a lot more to talk about – Jughead wouldn’t be staying, and he wasn’t kidding himself into thinking SP would follow him when he left. SP was right; fucking was a lot easier than dealing with the more difficult stuff.

 

Before they were even done, Jughead was standing and pulling SP along, the chuckle coming from SP’s lips going right to his groin, “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,”

 

“Yeah, when you’re half fucking naked,” he said with irritation, pushing him into the room and slamming the door closed behind them.

 

It was a war again – but without hate. Skin against skin, teeth biting, and hair pulling, the two lovers falling into step easily as they dropped down on the bed.

 

Afterwards, with both men staring at the ceiling, Jughead took a deep breath, asking _the_ question, “What are we going to do?”

 

They both looked at each other then, neither one having the answer.

 

When SP moved to his side, reaching for Jughead’s face, Jughead mirrored his position, closing his eyes and losing himself in the soft sweet kiss SP was offering – if only for just a moment.

 

“You know I can’t stay here…” he said, the pain evident in his voice.

 

SP paused before opening his eyes and looking at his lover, “And you know I won’t leave,”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's how it was always meant to end, folks... with them each saying those final lines.  
> It's up to you if they just went on with their lives, if one of them gave in, or if they worked something out...   
> Let me know how you picture it. And thank you so much for reading!!!


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